


Second Chances (For the First Time)

by mithrel



Category: Dresden Files (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, First Kiss, M/M, Magical Accidents, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-12
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a magical accident, Bob decides to do something he's wanted to for some time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances (For the First Time)

It was the middle of the day, Harry was out hunting up leads for his current case, and Bob was bored.

He drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk– _on_ the desk, his fingers making a tapping noise–and thought back to two weeks ago…

It had been a freak coincidence, really, million-to-one odds.

***

Harry had been on a case fighting a necromancer who was animating people from the nearby cemetery and using them as his own private army. When Harry went up against him, Bob had insisted on coming along.

“You can’t face him on your own, you’ll be killed!”

“Oh, and you can help how?”

A spasm of pain crossed Bob’s face. It was true, he was almost completely impotent. Harry seldom reminded him of it, since he knew how it chafed. If he could have he’d have fried that skinwalker to a crisp for daring to hurt Harry…

Ah, but he was being ridiculous, he was incorporeal, and even if he _had_ a body, Harry would never return his feelings…

Harry was talking to him. “Bob? Bob, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

He sighed. “I know you didn’t. But, please, let me come along, just in case? I know about this sort of thing, I might be able to help.”

Harry shook his head. “All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “You can come along.”

And so Bob had gone with Harry to help him face down the necromancer.

Neither of them had realized that Bob might be vulnerable.

Harry and the necromancer were evenly matched in terms of power. Harry had enough protection to keep the zombies away, but that sapped enough of his energy that he was only able to devote a fraction to offense.

Bob had been in the corner, trying to stay out of the way, while the two wizards slung lightning bolts and fireballs, Harry from his hockey stick, the necromancer from a staff of some dark wood.

The necromancer was ugly. One would expect black sorcerers to be ugly, but that was not always the case, as Bob knew well. He was slightly stooped, had stringy, oily dark hair confined in a tail, and sunken eyes. His current snarl of rage did nothing to improve his appearance.

Suddenly the necromancer gave up trying to get through Harry’s shields, and turned to face Bob. A slow, evil grin spread across his face and a bolt of red light shot from his staff toward the ghost.

In a flash, Bob understood. He was technically undead, and the necromancer could control him. What he could do with that control Bob had no idea, but he didn’t want to find out.

Harry saw it too, and with a hoarse cry he flung out a bolt of his own, too late, trying to deflect the necromancer’s spell, turn it aside…

The spells merged, and hit Bob at the same time. He blacked out.

He woke up to Harry’s voice. “Bob? Bob? Oh, God, don’t be dead…”

He coughed. “You…don’t believe in God.”

Bob opened his eyes to see Harry grinning at him like an idiot, tear tracks on his face. Tears? _Don’t be stupid, why would he be crying for me?_ But Harry was _still_ crying. “Bob, I thought you…”

He coughed again. “Yes, I should have realized that I’d be vulnerable to the necromancer…” He sat up and looked around. “Where is he?”

Harry suddenly looked grim. “I fried the bastard while he was distracted.”

Bob raised an eyebrow. It took considerable power to totally consume anything with magic. To consume something as large as a person, Harry would have had to have been…well “enraged” was an understatement. He got to his feet with some difficulty. “Well, I guess that’s it then.” He looked over at Harry. “Are you all right?”

Harry nodded. “Fine. You?”

“The spell doesn’t seem to have had any ill effects.”

“I guess we should go.” He took Bob’s skull out of his coat, and gestured with it.

Bob closed his eyes and concentrated. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes, and furrowed his brow, confused.

Harry looked at him. “Well?”

Bob tried again. Still nothing. “I can’t dissolve.”

“What?” Harry looked at him like he thought he was joking.

“I can’t dissolve.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Bob, do you think that spell…”

“It must have. What did you do?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t even know. When I saw that bastard going after you, I just threw out some power to deflect it…”

“I see. So now I am deprived of what little power I did have. Lovely.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now, let’s go home.”

They headed through the abandoned warehouse the necromancer had been using. Fluorescent bulbs flickered fitfully overhead. There was a broken chair lying in the middle of the floor. Harry went around it, and Bob attempted to walk through it.

Attempted.

What actually happened was that he ran into the chair, got tangled in it and fell to the floor in a crash of splintering wood.

Swearing, he attempted to extricate himself, with no success. He looked up to see that Harry was holding out a hand to help him up, apparently forgetting that it wouldn’t do any good. Reflexively, he reached out for it, not thinking, still rattled after what had happened.

Rather than passing through it, his hand grasped Harry’s.

He dropped it immediately, as if it had burned him, while Harry’s eyes widened.

“Holy crap!”

Bob shook off the remains of the chair. “Indeed.” A hope was growing in him, but he refused to acknowledge it.

“Bob, I think you have a body!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“No, really! You couldn’t dissolve, you ran into that chair, and I was able to grab your hand! That spell must have…”

“Ridiculous!” he said again. “Nothing can give me a body again!” _If only…_

“Try to walk through the wall!”

Bob narrowed his eyes at Harry. “What?”

“Try. To. Walk. Through. The. Wall.” Harry said, making each word distinct. “If you can’t, we’ll know you have a body again.”

“Fine.” Bob turned to the warehouse wall, and tried to walk through it. Slowly. Just in case.

It was a good thing he’d been cautious, because, rather than walking through it, he bumped into the wall.

His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. He stared at the wall. At his hands, and back at the wall.

“I have a body.” He couldn’t believe it. He’d never expected this, not in a million years, to have a body again… “I have a body!” He grinned over at Harry, who was beaming back.

And then Bob dropped his dignity completely and did something _Harry_ would have never expected. He began running around the warehouse, throwing his arms in the air and screaming. “I have a body!” over and over.

When he finally calmed down, he looked over at Harry. The wizard was laughing, and Bob felt his cheeks color. “Congratulations.”

***

Bob looked up. He had no clue how long he’d be corporeal. Mixing magics had unpredictable results at the best of times, and since they didn’t know what either spell was… Well, he intended to make the most of it.

“Thinking deep thoughts?”

He looked up to see that Harry had come up behind him. He smiled at him. “You shouldn’t be able to move that quietly.”

“I learned from the best.”

Harry leaned over the desk, and he seemed suddenly uncertain. “Bob…you…have a body again…”

Bob nodded patiently. “Yes…?”

“It…it might only be temporary.”

He nodded again. “I had considered that.”

“So, uh…is there anything you want to do? I mean…” He coughed. “Like hire a prostitute, maybe?”

Bob stared at him. “Have you gone completely mad?”

“Sorry, sorry, forget I said anything, it’s just, you were making all those comments and I thought maybe…”

Bob glared at him. “Do you really believe I would wish to engage in sexual intercourse with a common prostitute?”

“I’m…sorry…” Harry winced at his formality.

Bob seized his opportunity. “Actually, there is something I’d like to do.”

“What?”

Bob stood up, and walked around the desk. He’d surely be damned for this, but he didn’t care. He’d be no worse off than before.

He grabbed Harry’s jacket, hauled him in, and kissed him. Hard.

Harry stiffened, started to pull away, then kissed him back with all the ferocity he had.

The kiss wasn’t gentle, or romantic. It was desperate, hungry, as if both of them expected to never get the chance to do this again. Both of them tried to control it, before Bob gave up, and let Harry do what he wanted.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard. “What…the hell…was that?” Harry managed.

Bob managed a weak grin, and something approaching his normal sarcasm. “It’s called a kiss, Dresden, although I’m sure you wouldn’t know that.”

“Why, you…” Harry shook his fist at him. “I meant _why?_ ”

“Does the phrase ‘ _Carpe diem_ ’ mean anything to you?”

Harry blinked at him.

“As you said, it’s most likely temporary. I might never get the opportunity again.”

“Hold it, hold it, wait just a second.” Harry ran his hand over his face. “You’ve been wanting to do that for how long, exactly?”

“Approximately ten years.”

“I don’t believe this.”

Bob was suddenly uncertain. He couldn’t be angry could he? After a kiss like that?

“Why didn’t you _say_ anything?”

“Several reasons, not the least of which was I had no body, so nothing could happen.”

“Well, you have a body now.”

Bob looked at him. “You mean…?”

“For at _least_ ten years.”

Bob closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Well, then?”

Harry smiled at him. “ _Carpe diem._ ”


End file.
